PROLOGUE
Aria clutched her sword as she scanned the exterior of the old warehouse.
Danao’s side-eye acknowledged her tell—groping her weapon was Aria-speak for being nervous as hell. Truth be told, the place set off every alarm bell she possessed.
Looming to her left, Mervok expressed his own version of a tell by pushing at his heavy, metal-enforced braces, checking that they were tight across his massive forearms. A gift from her; the top featured an intricate engraved knot with elegant script beneath it.
The Power of Three.
As the third member of their Trogian pact, Danao hid his nerves the best. The Dragon shifter always walked like he had a stick up his ass. But the old mercenary’s hand never strayed far from the weapon at his waist.
Every gesture meant something to Aria. She, Danao, and Mervok almost merged as one unit while working. And in this ruthless world, it kept them alive.
Or it had, so far.
All three of them widened their stances as Petro’s advanced mercenary team approached them. Like most underworld mercs, they were armed with swords. Guns were rare, as was technology—security walked on two, or sometimes four, legs.
The scout team jogged up to a much slimmer version of Petro’s blue-skinned bulk.
“Report,” the overseer barked.
“Underlord Grievan is here,” one of them said. “He has his mercs at the main doors, both ends of the stairs, and the basement tunnel entrance.”
The overseer’s eyes narrowed. “They let you scope out the tunnel?”
The merc nodded, “Yes sir. Empty except for the guards. It looks good to go.”
Danao glanced to Mervok, and then to Aria. She raised a brow back at him. The merc who’d spoken hadn’t met the overseer’s gaze when he’d answered.
“Sir,” Mervok said. “I’d like permission to inspect that tunnel.”
The overseer frowned. “Why? They have already checked it.”
Petro waved impatiently. “Stop wasting time. We are too exposed out here. And we are running late.”
Mervok’s mouth straightened, but he nodded.
“Stay here at the entrance,” the overseer ordered the scouts as the rest of the group advanced on the warehouse.
Both Mervok and the old Dragon shifter had advised against this meeting, but had been overruled. Only a fool would ignore mercenaries with her mentors’ experience, but Petro had more power than brains. That his Cryptid hired to foresee the future had vanished the night before didn’t fill anyone with confidence.
Petro ignored it all, insisting the potential benefits were worth the risk. In other words, the war was affecting his bottom line, and he wanted it over.
Aria clutched her sword tighter. Mervok had bought it for her on a whim; its ornate hilt wasn’t what she would have chosen for herself. Sometimes he got carried away with the concept that she was a girl. Even though she’d never exactly been the typical female.
The blade, however, was well balanced to her, and treasured because of its source. Today, her old friends and she were part of a group of fifteen mercs, all hired by an underlord who dealt primarily in weapons. But that wasn’t why they were here. Or rather, it was, sort of.
Neither Mervok nor Danao believed Grievan was interested in ending this bloody turf war. As they passed the guards at the entrance and paced across the warehouse floor, Mervok cast her a look over his shoulder. His yellow eyes, so striking against the surrounding wrinkled gray skin, sent her a warning. Aria nodded, her fingers tightening on her sword.
Danao took a few steps away from Mervok, putting Aria in between them. Although the scales forming his clothing had gone gray with age, his gigantic body still rippled with muscle. With Mervok’s bulky form to her other side, Aria felt both dwarfed, and ready for whatever the next few minutes might throw at them.
The two old warriors had protected her from the moment she’d been deposited at their doorstep as an infant, and now that she’d entered their mercenary ranks, they carried it forward. Didn’t matter how often she insisted she could sharding well look after herself, they looked out for her.
This meet was supposedly on neutral ground, but there was no true neutral in this vicious war. Experience, instincts, and ability had ensured the three of them still walked the realm when many of Petro’s other employees had perished. But several times, death had been close. So close, they had discussed leaving for new employment.
But most underlords wouldn’t hire an old mercenary, let alone two. So here they were, heading into a situation that promised, at the very least, to require every skill they possessed.
The small fixtures near the ceiling did little to light the bare floor, but the realm’s three moons cast their brilliance through the broken windows, throwing their shadows across the pavement. It only added to the eerie sense of dread within Aria as she stalked toward the stairwell. The meet would take place in the below-ground storage area.
